Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.
A/N: Keep in mind; this is in the Rent universe where it is completely acceptable to sing an argument and such. This is a combo of the original Goodbye Love and the one that viewers of the play and deleted scenes of the movie have grown accustomed too. Its basically descriptions around the lyrics sooo…umm yea… Review please so I write better things in the future
"I hear there are great restaurants out west," Mark sings mournfully to his room mate. Pale blue eyes watch the musician longingly. Mark wishes things could be different. He wants to comfort his best friend yet he knows that Roger is too far away now, despite how close he is physically.
Mark wants to tell him that if he stays, Mark can make Roger happy again. Mark wants to scream out that he does not want to be like Collins and lose the man he loves slowly, but he will do it if Roger gives him half a chance.
Mark hopes against all odds that Roger's guitar is still leaning against the wall by the door in the corner of the loft. And he hopes that this is just a misunderstanding, that there is no car and he is not going anywhere. Mark wishes that Mimi would take Roger back and clean herself up. He would rather have him close and unattainable, then far and unattainable.
As he glances into Roger's eyes, Mark is sad to tell himself that he can not read them anymore. He knows at one point he could. He misses that time.
"Some of the best," Roger returns. The musician is trying in vain to keep the conversation civil, normal. But in his heart he knows that it will not work for long. He's running. He knows it. He hates himself for it, but does not know what else to do anymore.
If he leaves, then Roger can not possibly cause anymore harm. His drug habit forced Collins to leave the loft. His need for a fix is why April got AIDS and killed herself. His insecurities about love were the reason that Mimi left him for Benny.
"And why am I insecure about love? Why? Because it always goes wrong, or because I've never really been in love? Did I ever love Mimi at all? April? Myself?" Roger bites his tongue, wanting to yell at the voice in his head.
Roger casts a glance over his shoulder and sees the tears shining in Mark's eyes. He hates himself for even partially causing them.
Roger wants to tell Mark not to cry. He wants to reassure him like Mark always does for him, but he can't bring himself to do it. Things are not okay
"How could she?"
"How could you let her go?" Mark's voice carries through out the loft and Roger feels his resolve crumble just a little. The somber tone of the filmmaker's voice shaking Roger to his core.
Roger wants to scream at Mark, but he is too tired. He wants to ask Mark why he is still here. He wants to know Mark has lasted this long in his life, when everyone else leaves or dies.
"You just don't know…how could we lose Angel," Roger's voice cracks and he prepares himself for Mark's arms wrapping around him. Roger waits for a moment fully expecting Mark to assist him in dealing with his pain and console him like he did all those times before.
Roger turns around so his body is facing the blonde's and he feels the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.
The affection he anticipates does not come.
"Maybe you'll see why when you stop escaping your pain, at least now if you try Angel's death won't be in vain," Mark tries to reason, tries to be honest with his friend. Mark knows he should be able to be honest with his best friend, yet somehow he never is.
Mark could be on fire and he would tell Roger it was a minor burn. Anything to not worry or hurt his friend. Anything to keep Roger safe. It is always about Roger and his feelings and for once Mark has to put his own emotions out into the unknown world.
Mark has never been blunt with Roger and he is nervous about doing so now. He always fears that Roger will shatter at the sound of truth. For some reason, Mark has constructed a mental image of Roger that paints him to be a porcelain doll where emotions are concerned.
But Mark knows he can no longer do that. Mark knows that his roommate is going to leave regardless of what is said and be damned if Mark will not leave the musician with some things to think about for awhile.
"His death is in vain!" Roger cried out, tears slowly cascade down his pale cheeks. Mark wants to run to him. Mark refrains.
"This was not how things are suppose to be. Mark is suppose to be telling me what to do, he's suppose to be making it all better. Mark doesn't get angry, does he? He sounds angry? Doesn't he see that if I leave he'll be safe? I can't hurt him from Santa Fe can I?" Roger concludes his private thoughts with a sniffle and stares blankly at the man who is suppose to understand him.
"Are you insane?" Mark was in shock, he never anticipated Roger to demean Angel's impact in their lives. She pulled them together, and now her death is pulling them apart.
"Poetic? Pathetic," Mark thinks to himself, frustrated with what is happening.
"There's so much to care about, there's me, there's Mimi," Mark croons, trying to prove his point, make Roger see his side of things.
"Mimi's got her baggage too," Roger sighs reflectively. His voice is loosing steam, he is loosing this battle. He wonders for a moment why Mark is even fighting him, but he does not have time to muse on this for long.
Mark takes a few menacing steps forward and grabs the duffle bag out of Roger's grasp. He tosses it to the side, where it will be harder for Roger to grab it when he finally runs out the door.
Roger jumps at the sudden act of rage, taken aback by Mark's usually tamed forwardness. Roger watches the tear tracks on Mark's cheeks intently in the dim lighting.
Roger thinks about how he needs to leave quickly so that Mark does not hurt anymore. Mark will not cry when he is gone. Mark will be happy, and alive. This is what Roger tries to convince himself of as Mark's temper flares for the first time in years.
"So do you!" Mark spits the words out vehemently, as he feels his frustration coming to a boil, then slowly settling. He does not have the energy for this anymore. He hates all this emotion, this is why he has his camera he realizes. So that he can watch all this from a distance, never having to feel it first hand.
"I don't know who I am anymore, Mark. I don't even know why I am leaving, just that I need to go," Roger shakes his head and looks at the floor. "Who are you to tell me what I know, what to do?"
"A friend!" Mark thinks that he should have said something else. Something more detailed. Something that said more about who they were to each other. Who Roger was to him.
"But who Mark, are you?" the sound of Roger's plea for answers echoes in the suddenly empty space. Green eyes beg for resolve yet Roger has no idea what needs to be resolved first.
Mark knows who he is. And it hurts him. It hurts him that he has to announce it to the world. That he has to say it out loud to Roger, the one person who should already know.
"'Mark has got his work', they say, 'Mark lives for his work'", Mark tosses his arms open then clasps his hands together in front of his chest. "And, 'Mark's in love with his work'", pounding his locked hands against his chest, gesturing to the pain he feels everyday. "Mark hides in his work," his hands drop weakly to his sides.
"From what?" Roger stands feet away from a man possibly more broken than he, and he loathes himself for not seeing it before this moment.
Mark reaches out and touches Roger's shoulder with a defeated look in his eyes. "From facing my failure, facing my loneliness, facing the fact that I live a lie!" he tears his hand away from Roger as if it will burn him, and for the first time he gazes into Roger's eyes and sees the familiar blame setting in.
He wants to tell Roger to not blame himself, that he has done nothing wrong. All he has done wrong in Mark's opinion is never let Mark into his heart. And even that he can hardly blame the man for.
Roger feels overwhelmed and does his best to maintain eye contact. He watches Mark closely as the anger begins to slowly dissipate. With a few steps he's hugging Mark, but Mark quickly pushes him away.
Mark ignores the dejected look in the his best friends eyes, but he knows he needs to carry on.
"Yes I live a lie, tell you why," he feels his voice shaking with nerves, but he knows in his heart he has come to far to stop now.
He points an accusing finger at himself and shouts the rest of his thought. "I'm always preaching not to be numb, when that's how I thrive. I pretend to create and observe when actually I detach from feeling alive," His eyes are manic as he clutches Roger's shoulders, forcing himself to see his failure.
All Mark has ever wanted is for Roger to stay safe. Stay clean. Stay with him. His personal mission of the past two years is coming to a halt.
Roger is leaving him, for how long, Mark has no idea. But the fact that it is happening is tearing him apart in itself.
Roger would stay clean, but never safe, not as long as he had that virus. As long as his body breathed, something as simple as a cold could take him away. Just like Angel
"Perhaps it's because you're the one of us, to survive," Roger moves his hands to Mark's arms and shakes him gently. Slowly the warmth starts to fill the filmmakers eyes as he comes down off of his emotional high.
They stand there, faces inches apart for a full minute before Mark grabs Roger by the back of the neck. Pulling his friend in close to him, eyes closed, breath being held deep within his chest, Mark gives in to himself.
Their lips meet in a hurried kiss. Mark does not know if Roger reacts, or even kisses back, but it is nice just for a second to have what he only lets himself think about when he is alone.
As quickly as it happens, it ends. Mark is now feet away from Roger and he can not remember how he got there so quickly. He remembers lips, pressing firmly against his, and a small tongue flickering over his teeth briefly. A small shove and he was alone again.
"I know, I'm afraid the burdens gonna make me, crack," Mark walks tiredly over to the loft door and opens it.
Roger waits for him to say something more. A comment as to why they just kissed. He wonders if he should make a comment of why he wants it to happen again.
Roger picks up his bag and walks to the door, standing just in the door way, not meeting Mark's eyes.
"If it does…just let me know, I'll come back," Roger's words are honest, and Mark knows that, but he says nothing right away. He chooses to let the moment sink in, one of the few he will not be able to rewind in the future and play back at his leisure.
"Love you...Call," Mark reaches out and squeezes Roger's shoulder. It is a brotherly gesture, and even if there is more to the words, Roger decides he will analyze this later.
Roger turns around and drops the bag. He pulls Mark into a tight embrace and Mark finds himself hesitating. After a minute Mark concedes and relishes in the hug, the contact, the connection.
"Love you, too. I'll be back, I promise," With a final sigh they separate and Mark lets himself smile. He knows Roger will be back in the not too distant future. Some time may be all Roger needs.
Mark does not know what that time will hold for them. Marks' only wish is that they had more time left.
END